


Despair

by HellBunnyy



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Flogging, Paddling, References to Depression, Rope Bondage, Suicidal Thoughts, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23490667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellBunnyy/pseuds/HellBunnyy
Summary: Lucifer is tired of her misery. He would break her if she wasn't already broken, so he plans to fix her.
Relationships: Lucifer/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 75





	Despair

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hey! It's me for the third time in 2 days. My typical writing style is fairly dark, but my fanfic is typically more humorous. I wanted to try something darker this time. I also would like to encourage anyone to leave requests for future fics! I’m feeling experimental, so don’t be shy if you want to request a story of me :)

I can feel her torment radiating from her room. She’s only been here for a week and a half, but her misery has become a tangible entity of its own. I’d believe she was from one of the lesser rings had I not plucked her from the human world myself. Tortured, gutted, lacking in joy and temperance and grace. She was not taught how to be happy. It’s too late for that now, so perhaps I’ll teach her discipline if nothing else. 

I can sense her tears, the silent wailing of her soul. A poet. I’ve read her words. They compete with the Greats of literature themselves. Dark and all-knowing. She’s seen too much for one human mind to process. She could use an upgrade in capacity for all things horrible. 

Her door is unlocked. She’s not there, but I hear her shower running. A whimper. Enough is enough. 

I open her bathroom door quietly enough to go undetected, and I wait, arms crossed, leaning against her sink. 

She curses under her breath. I can see her silhouette trembling behind the shower curtain. 

“No. Not today. Not today. Not today,” she mutters. 

I hear a soft ‘clink’ as something small falls out of her hands. She shuts the water off. She wrings out her hair and heaves a shaky breath. The curtain opens.

“Shit, what the fuck.”

She crosses her arms across her breasts and places a foot on the edge of the tub, shielding her delicate area with her knee. She curls into herself, glaring at me through wet, puffy eyes. 

“What are you doing in here?”

I look beyond her, into the shower. A small razor blade has settled by the drain.

“More importantly, what exactly are you doing in here?”

“None of your fucking business. Get out.”

“You have some nerve, woman.” 

I stride toward her, searching her eyes. She’s still crying. Her little nose is most always red and raw. I grip her neck, forcing her to look up at me. Her arms tighten around her chest, squeezing the supple area. 

“Listen to me. There will be none of this from here on out. No funny business. No games. I’ll put you on suicide watch, should you not heed my warnings. I won’t have you defaming this realm for your own selfish reasons. If you must, hold out until you return home.”

She whimpers. A sad creature devoid of pride. 

“Why me? Why me…” she sobs. 

“Why any of us? Are you a fallen angel? You fight your own wars every day, just as we have. Build up some strength. Some discipline.”

“I used to be strong. I can’t anymore. I can’t.” 

I force her against the shower wall by her throat, and for the first time, she looks scared. Her hands finally leave her chest to grip at my arm. 

She’s shivering now, having been exposed to the cold air for too long. Her dark hair clings to her face. Droplets of water still bead on her eyelashes as she stares at me with fear in her lonely eyes. 

“How about I show you how to be strong, how to seal away your torment behind a smile?”

“That’s not possible.”

“It is. You’re but a lamb. You have many shearing to come. I’ll teach you. You’ll learn.” 

Her arms drop to her sides, and she looks defeated.

“I’ve been told my whole life I have demons. Yet all you demons have done is go out of your way for me. What do I have then, if demons are so kind?”

“Despair.” 

I loosen my grip on her neck and trail my hand down her wet body. She shudders under my touch, reaching to cover herself again.

“Drop your arms.”

She obeys. Delicious. What a delicacy, to have someone who knows no pride, has no qualms about giving into demands. She’ll be easy to train. 

I trace her abdomen, murmuring in her ear.

“I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to, but just remember your position. What exactly do you have to lose?” 

“Nothing. I have nothing,” she whispers, closing her eyes. She’s decided to give in. 

I help her out of the tub and find a towel to wrap around her shivering form. She’s exited a womb, agreed to see the light. It took a light bringer. 

She dresses, tying her hair back in a knot.

“You don’t have to give up your darkness. I know the taste can be addicting. But you have to smile sometimes. If at first you’re incapable of being strong, trick other people into thinking you are.” 

She seems to chew on my words, willing to listen to me now that she’s sobered out of her fit for a moment. 

Her oversized clothes hang on her form delicately, like a marble statue carved with pain and emotion. 

“Come with me,” I urge her. 

She follows me down the hallway barefoot, light like a ghost, and it feels like an initiation. She is a cult bride walking down the aisle, readied for the breeding of disaster. Readied for her undoing. I’m a willing cult leader. 

I guide her into my room and lock the door. There will be no interruptions during this training session. 

“Are you willing to give up your control to me?”

She looks at me with nothing in her eyes, as if to say ‘what control?’

“Yes,” she agrees. 

“A safe word, please.”

“Despair.”

I smile, cupping her cheek. She has so much to learn. Perhaps the despair will ease over time. I take her in a gentle kiss, and she complies. Maybe she’ll feel something. Physical pain, inflicted by another, is often sobering. She’s the perfect recipient. 

“Take off your clothes for me.” 

She shrugs out of her clothes lazily. I find it amusing – her total lack of sexual ambiance. She really doesn’t care. Lucky for her, it’s not the sexual ambiance I’m after. Typically, I approach people with the thirst to break them. What a treat, to find someone who’s already broken. 

I dig out a spandex blindfold and tuck it around her head. She looks so sad, so downtrodden. I find myself wondering if I’ll be able to get her in the right mood, or if this will strictly be an exchange of power. Either way is fine.

I embrace her wrists in leather cuffs.

“Too tight?”

“No.”

“Kneel.”

She does as she’s told, and I capture her ankles in cuffs as well. She looks like a pouting doll. I trace her lips with my thumb, then push two fingers into her mouth. She sucks. Interesting. I glide my wet fingers along her collarbone and think on how to approach the situation. 

I come back with a chain – a clamp on either end. Her nipples are already hardened, but I toy with one, and then the other. Her breathing quickens. I tighten a clamp around her left nipple until she winces. That’s where we want it. And then the other. She squirms a bit, at least more reactive than she’s been thus far. 

“Bend over.”

Soon enough, her ass is in the air, beautifully shaped and flawless. I plan to change that. 

“Remember, you have a safe word,” I remind her. She hums, indifferent.

I take out a black paddle and pet her soft flesh. 

WHAP.

She gasps, jerking. I see the chain swinging from her breasts. 

WHAP.

Harder this time. She can take it. She whines, wiggling in her restraints, unable to move like she wants. 

WHAP.

“Ah! Fuck,” she shouts. 

I can tell this is what she needs.

WHAP. 

Her whines are high-pitched now, really feeling the layers of sting. 

WHAP.

She sniffles, groaning through clenched teeth. The sound is intoxicating. 

WHAP.

I pause, letting her wonder if I’ll hit her again.

“You did very well, lamb.”

I caress her reddened behind, knowing that the skin will bruise. She winces at my touch. 

I remove her cuffs, having something else in mind. She stretches into her newfound freedom, unaware of what awaits her. 

I guide her blindfolded self to my bed and lay her down. 

“I want you to focus on giving up whatever sliver of hope you’re holding on to. Think about why you didn’t just leave a bloody mess in your shower. Think about that, and let it go. We’re starting from the ground up.” 

She nods, thoughtful, even though I can’t see her eyes. 

My ropework is rusty, having not indulged in a good century, but I manage. Her wrists are tied behind her back, to where she’s laying on them. I maneuver my way around her thighs with the rope, spreading her wide open for my convenience. She’s already damp. 

There she lies, beautifully wrapped and unable to resist. 

I kiss the skin of her inner thighs uncovered by rope, and she inhales a sharp breath. 

“Are you ready to give yourself to me?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

I undress – with a particular level of noise – so that she can hear me. I’ve been half-hard since her first squeal of pain, but seeing her lying there, fragile, unable to move… I stroke my erection, imagining the sounds she’ll make. 

I place a flogger on the bed next to her, gently so she doesn’t notice, and I align myself at her entrance. She lets out a soft gasp, knowing what’s coming. I push into her, and she grimaces, grunting and whining at the intrusion. 

I start a slow pace, and she hums with the push and pull. She becomes more vocal as I pick up speed, squealing as I pull on the chain clamping at her chest. I feel myself throbbing inside of her as she clenches around me from the pain. So good. 

I reach for the flogger, dragging the tails across her body. She lets out a noise of frustration, figuring out what it is fairly quickly. 

I bring impact to one breast, and she cries out, struggling. The other, and she arches, whimpering. I pound into her mercilessly, and her voice shudders with each thrust.

Dragging the flogger across her clit, she tosses her head back and forth. She knows. 

SMACK.

She screams, in turn rutting against me. Her little pussy quickly reddens. I see tears dampening her blindfold. 

The impact continues, and she cries out, begging, cursing, but never uttering that one word. She’s abandoned hope. Just as I requested. 

“I want you to repeat my words. With submission comes release.”

She murmurs the words, out of breath and crying.

“Louder.”

Another smack to her most delicate area. 

“Ah! With submission comes release,” she cries, choking on her tears. 

I pet her clit, rewarding her. She moans amidst the pain. I pull on the clamps again. She shakes her head, crying, but still meeting my thrusts as best as she can. I continue to press and stroke at her, and I can tell she’s close from all the stimulation. 

“I want you to come for me, and with that release, let go of it. Just let go.”

She gyrates her hips, trying her best to seek more of me.

“Come.”

A moment more, and she shakes around me, moaning and jerking. I let her ride her high before tearing off her blind and settling my hands around her throat, thrusting even harder. 

She gasps, looking into my eyes through her glossy ones. There’s something there after all. A bit of life. 

I bury myself, humming in satisfaction as I spill my cum deep inside her. 

She looks bewildered, like a newborn baby aware of its surroundings for the first time. Was she awake before now? 

“Did you let go?”

I pull out of her, watching my seed drip out of her hole on display.

“I – I think so.” 

“Good. Welcome to the world.”

I make quick work of untying her, and she seems relieved to stretch. 

“I think I needed that,” she confesses.

“I know you needed that,” I assure. 

I inspect the lovely red welts across her body. Decorated for her rebirth. Whether she likes it or not, she’s my new project.

“How about a bath, and we talk about what makes you feel so upset, hm?”

She looks hesitant, no stranger to the aftermath of opening up, but she agrees. Time to clean up the destruction of all she’s knocked down. We have a long way to go.


End file.
